


Bet my life on you

by Ephermeralk



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Exhibitionism, M/M, Public Sex, Virginity, bottom!Jared
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-01
Updated: 2015-02-01
Packaged: 2018-03-10 00:51:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3270587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ephermeralk/pseuds/Ephermeralk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The crazy thing is, Jared’s not even drunk when he agrees to offer up his virginity in a game of poker. Of course, he could use the money, and hell, he’s always wanted to fuck Jensen, so really, it’s a win-win situation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bet my life on you

**Author's Note:**

> A/n: To my darling bb, tebtosca who bought me a while back in an auction for cillab42 (also doubling as my smpc entry). I do hope it’s okay. All the cookies and ginger-ale to my dearest friend sleepypercy for the extra last minute, beta!

It was the gross hour of three in morning when Jared made his way downstairs, trying to avoid stepping into puddles of unrecognizable liquid. The Welcome to the Jungle themed party had finally calmed down about an hour ago, complete with Chad stumbling back into their room, attempting to crawl into Jared’s bed and make out with him. Always swore in the morning that he’d thought Jared was a really hot girl. That happened more than Jared would like. In any case, Jared had pushed his best friend to floor, throwing him a blanket just to shut him up. Chances were, Chad wouldn’t regain enough motor function to move for at least another five hours. 

The loud weekend parties were probably Jared’s least favorite part of living in the Sigma Chi house. Unlike the rest of the rich boys who lived here, Jared actually needed to study in order to keep his grades and his scholarship. And this semester he was taking biochem, neuroscience, and vector analysis. That course load left no time for dressing up in wigs and brightly-colored spandex. 

Next year he was going to rent a quiet apartment of his own. And maybe buy a dog, so he’d come up for a little air, from time to time. 

Jared was about to take his hard-earned glass of water back up to his room, when curiosity got the best of him. A hint of light shone through the door to the basement, along with the faint smell of cigar smoke and the sound of classical music. Definitely not par for the course around here. 

He opened the door quietly and padded down the stairs, trying to avoid any potential creaking. 

Huh. Jared had thought that everyone would be passed out by now, same as Chad after a few hours of drinking. Instead, a small group of senior boys were sitting around the large cherry table. Collins, Whitfield, Morgan, Chau, and Ackles. 

Fucking Ackles. 

Ackles was the real reason why Jared had agreed to rush with Chad in the first place. Square jaw, bright green eyes, bubble-gum pink lips, and blonde hair. And the freckles. No forgetting those. Generations of good breeding and money had gone into Jensen Ackles’ pedigree. 

Ackles was also openly gay. 

Not that Jared had ever really thought he had a chance. He was a freshman, Jensen a senior. Jensen came from money. Vacation homes in the Hamptons and the Caribbean sort of money. The kind that came with a father who’d been caught with hookers and cocaine, and who still ran half of America. 

Jared was from a small mining town in Kentucky. His own father often lost what little money they had gambling at the race track. 

Anyways, the most attention Jensen had ever thrown his way was the particularly hard paddling he’d given Jared’s ass during their initiation. Followed by Jensen pulling down his briefs so he could see the redness he’d created. And for one, glorious moment, Jensen’s hand had ghosted over his skin, drawing blood away from his ass and directly to his dick. But then Jensen had announced in a whiskey-smooth voice that they were done, and had hardly looked at Jared since. Only an occasional Padalecki thrown his way. 

Chips and cards were thrown onto the table, and Ackles’ pink mouth was sipping on a crystal tumbler filled with expensive alcohol, courtesy of someone’s rich parents. It wasn’t Jared’s world. Learning the various spinal tracts and the order of the cranial nerves and what they enervated—that was Jared’s goal for the evening. Midterm on Tuesday. Of course, just Jared’s luck, the stair creaked as he turned around. 

He stayed still for a second, frozen like deer, hoping that he blended into the staircase. For a brief, too-short second he even thought he’d gotten away with it. 

 

Then the worlds, “Padalecki, is that you?” floated up from down below, and Jared was screwed. 

 

“Uh, hey guys. I was just up getting some water and I saw the light was on. Didn’t want to waste electricity, you know? Don’t worry though, I’m heading back to bed.” 

 

“Didn’t see you at the party tonight,” Morgan said. “You too cool for our parties?”

 

“No, of course not. I just—I have a neuroscience test this week—“

 

“With Danneel?” Whitfield asked, not giving Jared time to answer. “Just show up at her office with a bottle of wine, and fuck her until she gives you an A. At least, that’s what I did.” 

 

“Uh, I’m not really into that,” Jared said awkwardly. He hadn’t officially come out to his fraternity brothers. 

 

Jensen, however, smirked. “I think what Jared’s trying so say is he doesn’t swing that way. Am I right, Jared?” 

 

He gulped. Now or never. He’d really like the option of disappearing instead. “You’re right,” he said in a small voice. 

 

“See,” Jensen grinned, slapping his fist on the table. “I told you Collins. My gaydar is never off. Now pay up.” 

 

Jared watched as a few hundreds passed hands. Money that could feed his family back at home for a month, being wasted, simply on a bet. It was obscene, in the worst way possible. 

 

It didn’t matter if Jared thought Ackles was a douchebag, his voice still made Jared turn around, even though he was trying to leave unnoticed. 

 

“C’mon now. Don’t be like that, Jared.” Jensen pulled out a chair. “Have a seat, play a little poker with us.” 

Heat rose up Jared’s neck and settled in what felt like a splotchy pattern across his cheeks, his sock-covered toe digging into the cold cement floor. 

“I don’t have the money. Sorry.” 

Jensen waved his hand like that was the least of his worries. “We want you to play, right guys?” 

He got a few smiles, and an absolutely from Osric, the only one sitting at the table that ever really bothered talking to Jared. Osric was pre-med too. 

“Well then, let’s pony-up his buy-in.” 

After the first five-hundred made its way into the middle of the table, Jared couldn’t even look any more. It was making him physically ill. He sat down at the table anyways though, letting Jensen pour him a glass of Glenfidditch. 

“My treat,” Jensen said. 

Jared muttered a “thank you” that felt completely inadequate. 

“You know how to play Texas Holdem?” Misha asked. 

“Yup.” 

“Good, we’ll get right to it then. I’m dealing tonight, and of course, Jensen’s the shark you’ve got to watch out for. He hands our asses to us almost every week.” 

Jensen looked pretty smug about that. “I’m sure Jared will do just fine.” 

Jared formed his face into what he hoped would pass as a smile. 

All in all, it didn’t go nearly as bad as Jared expected. Turned out, Whitfield and Morgan were pretty smashed to begin with, and either their betting skills or their eyesight wound up failing them in the third round. Out of money, they had no problem sitting back and pouring themselves another few fingers of whiskey. 

Osric folded after the next round of betting. 

It was down to Jared and Jensen now. High stakes. Enough money that he wouldn’t have to pay for books for the next year. Or live off Top Ramen either. 

In his hand, Jared had the three of clubs and the queen of diamonds. As luck would have it, the queen of hearts and the three of spades were also on the table. Two pair, queen high. Not bad at all. 

He was planning on going all-in, out-betting Jensen and his stupid, too-perfect smirk, when Jensen threw in more money than Jared had on the table. 

Fucking bastard. 

“Well?” Jensen asked, not taking his eyes off Jared’s hand, which was trembling slightly. He should fold. Fold, and play another round. Except—what if Jensen was bluffing. What if it was all Jared’s, if only he could figure out something to put on the table. 

“You know I don’t have any more money.” 

Jensen shrugged his shoulders easily, like it was no big deal. “We don’t always play for money, ain’t that right, boys?” 

“Absolutely, Ackles, sir,” Morgan shouted dramatically, saluting Jensen like they’re suddenly in the army. 

“Almost more fun without it,” Osric replied, pouring himself a little more. 

Whitfield had long since passed out with his head on the table, and Misha stared down Jared and Jensen with narrowed eyes. 

“Alright. But it must be something you both agree upon. Jensen state your terms.” 

Jensen looked him up and down, once, twice, three times. Jared wondered what he was seeing. Used clothes. Calloused hands from working construction during the summer. Two days’ worth of stubble. 

It was completely out of the blue when Jensen stated, not a waiver in in his voice, “My terms are this. I’ll accept Jared’s virginity in lieu of cash.” 

Jared practically choked on his own saliva. “What?!” 

Misha, however, was regarding Jared in all seriousness. “Jared, do you agree?” 

Jared took a deep breath. He could do this. If Jensen was bluffing, Jared would win more money than he could make in a year. If he wasn’t—well, he’d get fucked by Jensen, the reason he’d pledged Sigma Chi in the first place. So, win-win, really. 

“I do.” 

“Alright,” Misha said, “you boys ready to show your cards?” 

Jared put his two on the table. “Two pair, queen high.” 

“Well,” Jensen nodded approvingly, “that’s a good hand. Unfortunately, not good enough to beat three of a kind, though.” 

Two threes were laid on the table. So including the one that was already in the flop…

Misha had been right, Jensen really did look like a shark. One who might eat Jared alive, given half the chance. In the back of his head, Jared heard a nature documentary, reminding him that the trick to dealing with predators was to not act scared. 

“Well, I’d offer my room, but my roommate's passed out on the floor, so it might be a bit of a buzzkill.” 

Jensen’s smirk widened. “Who said anything about leaving?” 

“Aren’t we going to…?”

“Have sex? Hell yeah. But sweetheart, it’s happening right here.” 

Jared was pretty sure his face was mimicking a goldfish, mouth-gaping open, unable to close. 

“With…them here?” Jared gestured towards Collins and Chau who were alternatively attempting to slap each other’s hands, and Morgan who was already leaning back in his chair, palming himself through his jeans. 

“Don’t worry,” Misha said, “we’re just here to make sure you pay up. No big.” 

It was a big deal, at least to him, but then Jensen pulled him into his lap and started kissing him, and Jensen’s tongue tasted like whiskey and strawberries. He couldn’t be bothered with the catcalls or the clapping behind them, because his hands were trying to be everywhere. In Jensen’s gelled hair, his face, underneath his shirt. 

When Jensen bucked up, Jared could feel his dick, hard and warm through his sweatpants. They came off easily, just like his threadbare Smurf tee-shirt. 

Once he had shed his clothes, leaving him naked, it became obvious how not naked Jensen was, and Jared whined, fucking whined, as Jensen repeatedly refused his attempts to remove his shirt. 

“Not this time, babe. This is exactly how I want it.” He grabbed Jared’s ass and ground his clothed crotch into Jared’s completely bare one. Jared was lucky Jensen had on soft pants. Probably some shit like Gucci or Prada. 

Jensen pulled down Jared’s lips for a kiss, taking it slower than Jared wanted. Jared wanted fast. He wanted furious. He wanted Jensen to goddamn fuck him with everything that he had. 

“You gotta slow down, kid,” Jensen told him. “Learn to savor the moment.” 

“I thought you were going to fuck me,” Jared grumbled back. 

“I am, don’t worry. I’ll need to stretch you out though. You ever put anything inside yourself?” 

Jared blushed and bit his bottom lip. There were other people listening after all. 

Jensen caught on to Jared’s reticence. “You can whisper if you don’t feel comfortable saying it out loud, sweetheart.” 

“Just my fingers,” he whispered, lips grazing Jensen’s ear. 

“Mhmm, that’s good, real good,” Jensen moaned as Jared mouthed sloppy, frantic kisses down Jensen’s throat. “You all stretched out on the bed, fingering yourself. Fuck, you’ll have to do that for me sometime.” 

“Me and you. No one else,” Jared said as Jensen put his fingers to Jared’s mouth. 

“Deal,” Jensen replied, “Now get them good and wet for me, ‘cause they’re goin’ inside you in just a second here.” 

Jared did as he was told, kept dry humping Jensen while Jensen fingered him, still too slow for his taste. 

“C’mon, Ackles. I’m going to come before you even get inside me.” 

Jensen waggled eyebrows and grinned. “Now you’re just sweet talkin’ me, Padalecki. Turn around, forearms on the table, ass out.” 

Jared complied, only to find all the other boys grinning at him, hands working underneath the table. 

“You can take it Padalecki,” Morgan said, grinning. 

Jared felt Jensen tense behind him. 

“Y’all can either shut up or leave, got it? I don’t want to hear a word from any of you from this point on.” 

“Sure thing boss,” Misha said, putting his feet on the table and leaning back in his chair. 

Jensen growled, and Jared pushed back, trying to remind Jensen that he was still waiting. 

“Alright, alright, you ready?” Jensen asked, nudging the edge of Jared’s rim with his cock. 

“Please,” Jared practically sobbed. He was so far past the edge of needing Jensen, it felt like relief, rather than pain, when Jensen sank his body into Jared’s. 

“You ok?” Jensen asked. 

Jared shoved himself back on Jensen’s dick, his body stretching out from the inside in ways he didn’t even know were possible. 

“I’d be better if you’d fuck me.” 

That definitely got more than a few chuckles out of their spectators, but then, holy hell, Jensen pulled out and goddamn slammed into him, moving him up the table, assuredly giving Jared table burns on his forearms. 

“This better?” Jensen snarled, keeping up his pace, not giving Jared a moment to rest or a minute to catch his breath. 

“Perfect,” he replied, once he’d managed to inhale enough air to get the word out. 

Jared couldn’t really judge time, it was somewhere in between what seemed like forever and not long enough that Jensen reached around. He didn’t really jerk Jared off, just made a loose fist and let Jared fuck it. It was sweaty and warm, giving him just enough friction that he blew his load quickly, collapsing as Jensen’s hips stuttered their way to an orgasm inside of him. 

“Alright. Show’s over. Everyone out,” Jensen said, holding Jared around his waist, keeping them locked together. 

“Good?” Jensen asked him, kissing the sweat off his back. 

“Not bad. But letting your friends watch you fuck me for the first time? You definitely lost class point there. Overall, I’d rate you a solid six out of ten.” 

“Six? Seriously? No one’s every given me a six before.” Jensen actually sounded surprised. Well, there was a first time for everything. Even constructive criticism. 

“Yeah, well. No one else is me either. Now get out of me, Ackles, I’ve got to get at least an A- on my neuroscience exam.” 

Jensen pulled out, looking just as shocked as Jared had earlier. It felt good to flip the tables. Give Ackles a taste of his own medicine. 

“You wanna get breakfast or something tomorrow, Jared?” Jensen asked as Jared was putting his clothes back on. He thought about it for a moment. It wasn’t like he’d mind. Eating breakfast was always a good way to start the day. And Jensen was hot. And, despite his low rating, good at fucking. It’s just—Jensen was also kind of a douchebag. 

Jared bit his lip and smiled. “You won me there fair and square, Jensen. But I’m not just going to put-out for you because you buy me breakfast.” 

“Even if it’s all-you-can-eat?” 

“Effort, Jensen. I want to see it.” 

He tried not to wince as he walked up the stairs. Despite how good it felt at the time, Jared was definitely going to avoid sitting on his ass tomorrow. At least, as much as possible. 

Luckily for him, Jensen brought a memory foam cushion the next morning, showed up at 11 o’clock sharp. All dressed up, and every bit the gentleman. 

And as it turned out, all-you-can-eat waffles and a side of Jensen’s smile were definitely enough to convince him that spreading his legs instead of studying was the best idea ever.


End file.
